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Igeret Hateshuva
Chapter 11וְאָמְנָם לִהְיוֹת בְּלִבּוֹ הַהַכְנָעָה הִיא בְּחִינַת תְּשׁוּבָה תַּתָּאָה כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל,
Indeed, being submissive in one's heart before prayer, which is the lower level of repentance, as stated above (chaps. 7, 10), In the preceding chapters, the author of the Tanya explained that the primary expression of lower-level repentance is the submission of the ego. It is the bitterness a person experiences when he recognizes his flaws and shortcomings that lead to this breaking of one's sense of self.
וְגַם הַשִּׂמְחָה בַּה׳,
as well as feeling joy in God, Another condition necessary for powerful prayer is joy in God. It is impossible to achieve an authentic bond with God without happiness.
שְׁתֵּיהֶן בְּיַחַד
both at the same time The goal is to experience submissiveness at the same time as joy, to practice lower-level repentance together with higher-level repentance. This begs the question of how submission and anguish can reside in the heart together with joy. If someone lives with anxiety and stress over his sins, how can he be happy? Conversely, if one's heart is filled with joy, where is there room to be mindful of his sins with the appropriate gravity?
כְּבָר מִילְּתָא אֲמוּרָה בְּלִקּוּטֵי אֲמָרִים סוֹף פֶּרֶק ל״ד,
is a subject that was already discussed in Likkutei Amarim , at the end of chapter 34, In chapter 34 of Likkutei Amarim, the author of the Tanya presents two resolutions to the emotional conflict of experiencing bitterness and joy simultaneously. First, the submissiveness and bitterness necessary for repentance do not inherently oppose the emotion of joy. The submissiveness and bitterness are not a form of depression, which stems from the sitra aḥara and only weakens and stupefies the soul. Rather, these emotions, like joy, also emanate from the holy side: They are an expression of the soul's poignant distress over the plight of the body and its animal soul, held captive by the sitra aḥara due to the person's sins. Second, there is no contradiction between joy and bitterness because each emotion stems from a different aspect of the soul. The submission is an expression of the animal soul's agitation at being so far from God, whereas the joy is engendered in the divine soul which is so happy to be drawing close to God again. Since each emotion is rooted in a separate sphere of one's being, yet both strive for the same ultimate goal, it is both possible and natural for them to reside together.
כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּזּוֹהַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ: ״חֶדְוָה תְּקִיעָא בְּלִבָּאִי מִסִּטְרָא דָּא״ וכו׳ (זוהר חלק ב, רנה, א, שם חלק ג, עה, א).
based on the holy Zohar 's statement that is quoted there: "Happiness is affixed in one side of my heart, and weeping is affixed in the other side" (Zohar 2:255a, 3:75a). The Zohar there relates that Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai revealed mystical teachings to his son, Rabbi Elazar, regarding the destruction of the Temple. Upon hearing these profound insights, Rabbi Elazar rejoiced that he merited learning these secrets, but at the same time he wept since he now understood on a much deeper level the profundity of the loss. This exemplifies how a person can encompass the two extremes of emotion simultaneously – the trust and joy that come from closeness with God, together with distress over the great distance that still divides them.
וּבְצֵירוּף עוֹד הָאֱמוּנָה וְהַבִּטָּחוֹן, לִהְיוֹת נָכוֹן לִבּוֹ בָּטוּחַ בַּה׳ כִּי חָפֵץ חֶסֶד הוּא וְחַנּוּן וְרַחוּם וְרַב לִסְלוֹחַ תֵּיכֶף וּמִיָּד שֶׁמְּבַקֵּשׁ מְחִילָה וּסְלִיחָה מֵאִתּוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ (״כְּרוֹב רַחֲמֶיךָ מְחֵה פְשָׁעָי כַּבְּסֵנִי טַהֲרֵנִי וְכָל עֲווֹנוֹתַי מְחֵה״ כו׳ [תהלים נא, ג–יא]) בְּלִי שׁוּם סָפֵק וּסְפֵיק סְפֵיקָא בָּעוֹלָם.
Added to this are also faith and trust so that his heart is steadfast and secure in the belief that God wants to do kindness, and He is merciful, compassionate, and forgives abundantly, immediately, as soon as one requests pardon and forgiveness from Him (beseeching, "In the greatness of Your mercy, blot out my transgressions.... Wash my iniquity from me; purify me from my sin... and blot out all my iniquities... " [Ps. 51:3–11]). He believes this without any shadow of a doubt whatsoever. As long as the penitent is weighed down by the blemish of sin, he will be unable to extricate himself from his angst, and it will be all the more difficult to awaken joy in his service of God. Even worse, he is liable to fall into depression and despair in the wake of his sin. Therefore, it is essential for him to strengthen his faith and trust in the certainty of God's forgiveness. This will alleviate the burden of the memory of the sin and prevent the onset of despair and depression. As the opening chapters of Iggeret HaTeshuva explained, the core of repentance is the very decision to make a change in direction. All further steps are peripheral to that essential shift and merely serve to expand and enhance it. Here the author of the Tanya encourages the penitent to have faith and trust that God responds immediately to the internal decision he made. Not only does He hear his prayer, but He immediately answers him and forgives his sins.
וּכְמוֹ שֶׁאָנוּ מְבָרְכִין בְּכָל תְּפִלַּת שְׁמוֹנֶה עֶשְׂרֵה תֵּיכֶף שֶׁמְּבַקְּשִׁים ״סְלַח לָנוּ״ כו׳ ״בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה׳ חַנּוּן הַמַּרְבֶּה לִסְלוֹחַ״. וַהֲרֵי סְפֵק בְּרָכוֹת לְהָקֵל מִשּׁוּם חֲשַׁשׁ בְּרָכָה לְבַטָּלָה (שו״ע אדמוה״ז או״ח סימן קס״ז ס׳ יב). אֶלָּא אֵין כָּאן שׁוּם סָפֵק כְּלָל מֵאַחַר שֶׁבִּקַּשְׁנוּ סְלַח לָנוּ מְחַל לָנוּ.
This is expressed in the blessing we recite in every Amida prayer, the prayer of eighteen blessings, immediately after pleading, "Forgive us, our Father, for we have sinned... ": "Blessed are You, God, the Merciful One who forgives abundantly." Yet the halakha dictates that we be lenient when in doubt about blessings and refrain from reciting them lest it be a blessing said in vain (Shulhan Arukh Admor HaZaken, Oraḥ Ḥayyim 167:12). However, there is no doubt at all here, since we just asked, "Forgive us. Pardon us." If there were any doubt, the halakha would require refraining from uttering such a blessing out of fear that God's holy name would be uttered in vain. Yet we asked for forgiveness just moments before, at the beginning of the blessing! We can do so because we are filled with confidence and assurance that He will certainly forgive us. With no doubt at all, we recite the blessing with God's name on our lips, praising Him for His certain forgiveness. That we invoke God's name in blessing Him for forgiveness is proof of the certitude of His pardon.
וְאִילּוּ לֹא הָיִינוּ חוֹזְרִים וְחוֹטְאִים הָיִינוּ נִגְאָלִין מִיָּד, כְּמוֹ שֶׁאָנוּ מְבָרְכִין ״בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה׳ גּוֹאֵל יִשְׂרָאֵל״.
Likewise, if we would not revert to transgressing, we would be redeemed immediately, as we say in the subsequent blessing, "Blessed are You, God, Redeemer of Israel." There is an inherent connection between the blessing of forgiveness and the subsequent blessing of redemption in the Amida prayer. Since the exile was a result of our sins, it follows that if those sins were forgiven, the redemption would immediately ensue. The language of the blessing of redemption itself exudes the same air of certainty as the blessing of forgiveness. It also invokes God's name, blessing God for a redemption that is described in the present tense. This evokes an obvious question: If we were really forgiven, why hasn't redemption arrived? The author of the Tanya explains that on His part, God does forgive and does redeem. It is only because we revert to transgressing (sometimes even during the very same prayer in which we were forgiven) that the redemption does not come to fruition. But when it comes to forgiveness, which is solely contingent on God, we are certain that God has already forgiven us.
וַהֲרֵי אֲפִילּוּ בְּמִדַּת בָּשָׂר וָדָם כֵּן שֶׁצָּרִיךְ הָאָדָם לִמְחוֹל תֵּיכֶף וּמִיָּד שֶׁמְּבַקְּשִׁים מִמֶּנּוּ מְחִילָה וְלֹא יְהֵא אַכְזָרִי מִלִּמְחוֹל, וַאֲפִילּוּ בְּקוֹטֵעַ יַד חֲבֵירוֹ, כִּדְאִיתָא בַּגְּמָרָא בְּסוֹף פֶּרֶק ח׳ דְּבָבָא קַמָּא (צב, א).
In fact, it is so even according to human standards: A person is required to pardon as soon as he is asked for his pardon, and he should not be cruel and withhold forgiveness, even in a case where one severs the hand of his friend, as found in the Talmud, at the end of the eighth chapter of Bava Kamma (92a). The author of the Tanya illustrates the plausibility of confidently believing in God's forgiveness by showing how the same principle exists in the realm of human forgiveness. The talmudic obligation to forgive a person who is even guilty of severing one's limb, of harming him with such an extreme, irreparable injury, is not just a recommendation or a praiseworthy ethical trait. It is stated as a bona-fide halakha and codified by Rambam as a requirement that binds every Jew to pardon those who sinned against him.
וְאִם בִּיקֵּשׁ מִמֶּנּוּ ג׳ פְּעָמִים וְלֹא מָחַל לוֹ שׁוּב אֵין צָרִיךְ לְבַקֵּשׁ מִמֶּנּוּ.
If the offender requested pardon from him three times, and he did not pardon him, the offender is no longer required to request forgiveness of him. To pardon is the norm. Someone who refuses to pardon, even after the offender requested forgiveness three times, has sunk below the norm. Not only is granting forgiveness the right thing to do, but withholding it is wrong.
וְהַגִּבְעוֹנִים שֶׁבִּיקֵּשׁ דָּוִד הַמֶּלֶךְ עָלָיו הַשָּׁלוֹם מֵהֶם מְחִילָה בְּעַד שָׁאוּל שֶׁהֵמִית אֶת הַגִּבְעוֹנִים וְלֹא רָצוּ לִמְחוֹל, גָּזַר דָּוִד עֲלֵיהֶם שֶׁלֹּא יָבֹאוּ בִּקְהַל ה׳ שֶׁהֵם רַחֲמָנִים וכו׳, כִּדְאִיתָא בְּפֶרֶק ח׳ דִּיבָמוֹת (עט, א).
When King David, of blessed memory, requested pardon from the Givonites on behalf of Saul, who killed the Givonites, and they did not agree to forgive him, David decreed that they could not enter the assembly of God, the Jewish people, because Jews are compassionate... as stated in the eighth chapter of Yevamot (79a). The Tanakh relates that when the Givonites refused to forgive Saul, King David revoked their status as regular converts and designated them to a lower stratum in which they were not permitted to marry into the Jewish people.
וּבְמִדַּת הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עַל אַחַת כַּמָּה וְכַמָּה לְאֵין קֵץ. וּמַה שֶׁמְּשַׁבְּחִים וּמְבָרְכִים אֶת ה׳ ״חַנּוּן הַמַּרְבֶּה לִסְלוֹחַ״, הַמַּרְבֶּה דַּיְיקָא, וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בְּעֶזְרָא: ״וְרַב לִסְלוֹחַ״.
How much more so, to an infinite degree, with regard to the attributes of the Holy One, blessed be He, that forgiveness is certain. Thus, when we praise and bless God as "the Merciful One, who forgives abundantly," we specify "abundantly," and it is written also in the book of Ezra that God is abundant in forgiving. As the language of the blessing of forgiveness from the Amida indicates, God is unique not in that He merely forgives but in that He "forgives abundantly" regardless of the quantity and severity of the sin.
דְּהַיְינוּ שֶׁבְּמִדַּת בָּשָׂר וָדָם אִם יֶחֱטָא אִישׁ לְאִישׁ וּבִיקֵּשׁ מִמֶּנּוּ מְחִילָה וּמָחַל לוֹ וְאַחַר כָּךְ חָזַר לְסוּרוֹ, קָשֶׁה מְאֹד שֶׁיִּמְחוֹל לוֹ שֵׁנִית, וּמִכָּל שֶׁכֵּן בִּשְׁלִישִׁית וּרְבִיעִית. אֲבָל בְּמִדַּת הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אֵין הֶפְרֵשׁ בֵּין פַּעַם אַחַת לְאֶלֶף פְּעָמִים,
That is, with regard to human standards, if a person would transgress against another person and request pardon from him, and he pardoned him, and afterward the offender reverted to his wrongful behavior, it would be very difficult to pardon him a second time, and all the more so a third and fourth time. However, by the standards of the Holy One, blessed be He, there is no distinction between a single time and a thousand times. Herein lies the difference between divine and human forgiveness. While people are generally willing to pardon a first-time offense, it is a different matter when the offender commits a violation against someone over and over again. As a person continues to cause him harm and then ask for forgiveness, it becomes increasingly difficult to believe that he is sincere, and one's willingness to continue interacting with him wanes. Ultimately, the person he continually offends no longer feels capable of pardoning him. When it comes to divine forgiveness, even if a person asks for forgiveness for the thousandth time, God pardons him with the same willingness that He did the first time. This is the meaning of the blessing that specifies that God "forgives abundantly." He never loses patience or gets tired of forgiving us.
כִּי הַמְּחִילָה הִיא מִמִּדַּת הָרַחֲמִים, וּמִדּוֹתָיו הַקְּדוֹשׁוֹת אֵינָן בִּבְחִינַת גְּבוּל וְתַכְלִית אֶלָּא בִּבְחִינַת אֵין סוֹף,
This is because God's pardon stems from the divine attribute of compassion, and His holy attributes do not have any defined limits; rather, they are infinite, God's attributes are limited only in the sense that they each have a specific defined quality. That is, Ḥesed is not Gevura and so forth. Yet every one of them, in and of itself, is limitless and can expand infinitely.
כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״כִּי לֹא כָלוּ רַחֲמָיו״ (איכה ג, כב). וּלְגַבֵּי בְּחִינַת אֵין סוֹף אֵין הֶפְרֵשׁ כְּלָל בֵּין מִסְפָּר קָטָן לְגָדוֹל, דְּכוּלָּא קַמֵּיהּ כְּלָא מַמָּשׁ חֲשִׁיב וּמַשְׁוֶה קָטָן וְגָדוֹל וכו׳.
as the verse states, "His mercies have not ended" (Lam. 3:22). Relative to infinity, there is no distinction whatsoever between a small and large number, since everything before Him is literally considered nothingness, and He makes equal the small and great. Just as God's greatness is unfathomable and His understanding is beyond measure, so too there is no end to His mercy. In number theory, relative to infinity, there is no difference between the number one or one million. They are both equal to zero. So too in relation to God's infinite mercy, there is no difference whether He pardons one time or a hundred times.
וְלָכֵן מַעֲבִיר אַשְׁמוֹתֵינוּ בְּכָל שָׁנָה וְשָׁנָה,
Therefore, "He overlooks our guilty behavior each and every year" (from the Yom Kippur Amida ). Each year God pardons our sins anew, even though we committed the same transgressions last year and He forgave us then.
וְכָל הַחֲטָאִים שֶׁמִּתְוַודִּים בְּ״עַל חֵטְא״ מִדֵּי שָׁנָה, אַף שֶׁחָזַר וְעָבַר עֲלֵיהֶם חוֹזֵר וּמִתְוַדֶּה עֲלֵיהֶם בְּיוֹם הַכִּיפּוּרִים בַּשָּׁנָה הַבָּאָה, וְכֵן לְעוֹלָם.
A proof of this is that all the transgressions confessed in the Al Ḥet Yom Kippur prayer each year are confessed again on Yom Kippur of the following year, even though one regressed and violated the same sins again, and so it continues in perpetuity. On Yom Kippur, we recite the detailed prayer of confession, Al Ḥet, in which we specifically confess each sin committed over the past year, asking for forgiveness and promising never to do it again. If we regressed during the following year and did commit the same sins, we are allowed, and actually required, to specify them in our confession the following Yom Kippur. We are confident that God will not say, "Last year you made the same resolution and didn't keep it. This year I no longer believe you and will not take your petition seriously." Rather, we trust that in the same way He forgave us last year, He will forgive us this year, and if necessary, He will forgive us the next year as well.
וּבְכָל שָׁנָה וְשָׁנָה לָאו דַּוְקָא, אֶלָּא כְּמוֹ כֵן בְּכָל יוֹם וְיוֹם ג׳ פְּעָמִים מְבָרְכִים ״בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה׳ חַנּוּן הַמַּרְבֶּה לִסְלוֹחַ״,
Moreover, the words of the blessing, "each and every year," are not meant to be taken literally. Rather, in the same way that each Yom Kippur God pardons sins of the previous year, so too three times each and every day, we recite the blessing "Blessed are You, God, the Merciful One, who forgives abundantly." We ask forgiveness three times a day, during the morning, afternoon, and evening prayers, for the sins we committed throughout the day. After we ask, we immediately bless God, affirming His certain pardon. This demonstrates the abundant divine forgiveness that we are privy to, not just once a year on Yom Kippur, but several times every single day.
וּכְמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: ״תְּפִלָּה כְּנֶגֶד תְּמִידִין תִּקְּנוּהָ״ (ברכות כו, א). וְתָמִיד שֶׁל שַׁחַר הָיָה מְכַפֵּר עַל עֲבֵירוֹת הַלַּיְלָה וְתָמִיד שֶׁל בֵּין הָעַרְבַּיִים עַל שֶׁל יוֹם, וְכֵן מִדֵּי יוֹם בְּיוֹם לְעוֹלָם.
As our Rabbis state, "Daily prayers were instituted based on the daily offerings" (Berakhot 26a), and the daily morning offering would atone for transgressions committed the previous night, while the daily afternoon offering would atone for transgressions committed during that day, and so it would continue daily, in perpetuity. In these post-Temple times, prayer grants daily atonement in the same way that offerings did once upon a time. God forgives and atones repeatedly, fully and wholeheartedly, even if we keep sinning again and again. As soon as we say we are sorry, the forgiveness is there.
אֶלָּא שֶׁיּוֹם הַכִּיפּוּרִים מְכַפֵּר עַל עֲבֵירוֹת חֲמוּרוֹת, וְהַתָּמִיד שֶׁהוּא קָרְבַּן עוֹלָה מְכַפֵּר עַל מִצְווֹת עֲשֵׂה בִּלְבָד, וְכֵן הַתְּפִלָּה בַּזְּמַן הַזֶּה עִם הַתְּשׁוּבָה כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.
However, Yom Kippur atones even for grave sins, such as violating prohibitions, whereas the daily offering, which was a burnt offering, atoned only for neglect of positive commandments (Yoma 85–86). Similarly, prayer, which substitutes nowadays for offerings, atones along with repentance, as mentioned above. The pardon attained on Yom Kippur differs from that which is achieved by the offerings and the daily prayer that substitutes for it: Yom Kippur atones for grave sins, while the offerings and daily prayer achieve atonement only for neglect of positive commandments. Yet the common denominator between all of them is that they have power only when accompanied by repentance. In that case, one must infuse into his daily prayer sincere regret of the misdeeds of his past and wholehearted resolve to abandon them in the future. When the repentance is wholehearted and resolute, God in turn forgives him immediately and resolutely.
וְאֵין זֶה ״אֶחֱטָא וְאָשׁוּב״ כִּי הַיְינוּ דַּוְקָא שֶׁבִּשְׁעַת הַחֵטְא הָיָה יָכוֹל לִכְבּוֹשׁ יִצְרוֹ אֶלָּא שֶׁסּוֹמֵךְ בְּלִבּוֹ עַל הַתְּשׁוּבָה, וְלָכֵן הוֹאִיל וְהַתְּשׁוּבָה גּוֹרֶמֶת לוֹ לַחֲטוֹא אֵין מַסְפִּיקִין וכו׳.
This is not a case of saying, "I will sin and then I will repent," about which the Mishna states, "Heaven does not provide him the opportunity to repent" (Yoma 85b). That case is limited to one who could have subdued his evil inclination at the time of the transgression but instead relies in his heart on the repentance he plans to do after the sin. Therefore, since the repentance causes him to sin, Heaven does not provide him the opportunity to repent. The author of the Tanya is addressing an underlying question: If a person knows in advance that God forgives abundantly, and in an hour he can pray the afternoon prayer and his sins will be pardoned, doesn't that qualify him as one who says, "I will sin and then I will repent," about which the Mishna states, "Heaven does not provide him the opportunity to repent"? For this reason, the author of the Tanya emphasizes here that internalizing God's endlessly abundant forgiveness does not put a person in the category of people who grant themselves license to sin, taking advantage of God's willingness to forgive. As the author of the Tanya states above, a prerequisite to forgiveness is sincere repentance.
וְאַף גַּם זֹאת ״אֵין מַסְפִּיקִין״ דַּיְיקָא,
Even in such cases, it only states, "Heaven does not provide him the opportunity." A careful reading of the Mishna reveals that even in veritable cases of "I will sin and then I will repent," the Mishna does not state that it is impossible to repent. It merely says that Heaven "does not provide the opportunity to repent." Sin can be compared to addiction. When a person gets involved in addictive behavior, he assumes that he can quit whenever he wants. When he finally discovers that it's not so simple to quit, it is too late. The same is true of the sinner who is aware that he can repent at any time. He continues sinning in the meantime, attempting to catch a few last thrills, until his time expires and he loses his opportunity to repent. He knows that he must return, but he thinks he has time, and the moment he is ready, he will be able to fix everything. As long as nothing happens to shake him up and compel him to repent immediately, he will continue along his way and eventually lose his chance to repent. In this regard, the compulsion to sin is not unlike any other form of addiction.
אֲבָל אִם דָּחַק וְנִתְחַזֵּק וְנִתְגַּבֵּר עַל יִצְרוֹ וְעָשָׂה תְּשׁוּבָה, מְקַבְּלִין תְּשׁוּבָתוֹ.
But if he exerts himself, and he overpowers and overcomes his evil inclination and repents, his repentance is accepted. True, the compulsive sinner is not provided an easy opportunity to repent. According to the letter of the law, he does not deserve the privilege of return. Nevertheless, that does not mean his free will has been taken away from him and he is forced to remain without rectification. The choice is in his hands: If he wants it enough, he can strengthen himself and overcome all the obstacles that stand in the way of repentance. Although it will be much more difficult, at the end of the day nothing can stand in the way of repentance. Even if he is not able to completely rectify all the damage incurred by the sin, repentance always improves a person's relationship with God. A person should never think that the doors of repentance have been locked to him. They are never locked. It may be difficult. It may be imperfect. It may alter his life forever. It may even be dangerous. But if a person exerts himself and is not willing to give up, ready to pay any price, and he sincerely yearns to do good and repels evil, his repentance will be accepted. It is not such a wonder, then, that one's repentance is accepted, even though it was the power of repentance that caused him to sin, because the very essence of repentance is irrational. Transforming the past is intrinsically an illogical act that goes against the grain of the natural order.
אֲבָל אָנוּ שֶׁמְּבַקְּשִׁים בְּכָל יוֹם ״סְלַח לָנוּ״, אָנוּ מַקְדִּימִין לְבַקֵּשׁ ״וְהַחֲזִירֵנוּ בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵימָה לְפָנֶיךָ״, דְּהַיְינוּ שֶׁלֹּא נָשׁוּב עוֹד לְכִסְלָה.
However, we who plead, "Forgive us," every day first request, "Return us in complete repentance before You," meaning that we should not revert again to folly, Pleading for forgiveness every day does not mean we are the type of people who say, "I will sin and then I will repent." We do not go ahead and sin comforted by the assurance that we will be forgiven. The opposite is true: We first plead with God to help us to sincerely repent. We declare with every fiber of our being that we no longer want to sin. Only then do we recite the blessing asking forgiveness for where we went wrong.
וְכֵן בְּיוֹם הַכִּיפּוּרִים מְבַקְּשִׁים ״יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְּפָנֶיךָ שֶׁלֹּא אֶחֱטָא עוֹד״, מַסְפִּיקִין וּמַסְפִּיקִין,
and likewise on Yom Kippur, we first implore, "May it be Your will that I not sin again." Therefore, Heaven surely provides us opportunity to repent, On Yom Kippur as well, before the numerous supplications for forgiveness, we declare our desire not to sin anymore. We see from here that the foundation of the repentance process is the feeling of remorse deep within, not the forgiveness. When a person expresses true regret and asks for God's help to overcome temptation in the future, Heaven responds in kind and arranges opportunities and guidance for repentance.
כְּמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: ״הַבָּא לִטַּהֵר מְסַיְּיעִין אוֹתוֹ״ (יומא לח, ב), הַבָּא דַּיְיקָא – מִיָּד שֶׁבָּא,
as our Rabbis state, "If one comes to purify, they assist him" (Yoma 38b), specifying "one who comes" to convey that as soon as he comes in order to repent, they assist him, The language of the Rabbis intimates that this assistance applies even to someone who is not yet pure but merely "comes to purify" himself from the sins in which he is still enmeshed. As soon as he even just expresses his desire to extricate himself from sin, he merits divine assistance to embark on a new path.
וְאִי לָזֹאת גַּם הַסְּלִיחָה וְהַמְּחִילָה הִיא מִיָּד.
and as such, the forgiveness and pardon are also immediate. If a person expresses his intention at the outset, with every ounce of sincerity and truth that he can garner, that he no longer wants to be involved in sin and he yearns to return, then God does not wait to see what kind of changes he is actually going to make. He forgives the person on the spot.
וּמַה שֶּׁכָּתוּב: ״וְחַטָּאתִי נֶגְדִּי תָמִיד״ (תהלים נא, ה),
As for the verse "My sin is always before me" (Ps. 51:5), Here the author of the Tanya raises an apparent contradiction to the notion of immediate forgiveness. The author of the Tanya cited the same psalm above, quoting verses where King David declares his trust in the certainty and immediacy of God's forgiveness. Yet at the same time King David says that the memory of the sin should remain in his consciousness forever. Once a person has already repented, what reason is there for him to remember the sin that is now a relic of a past life and no longer plays a role in the present?
אֵין הַמְכוָּּון לִהְיוֹת תָּמִיד עָצֵב נִבְזֶה חַס וְשָׁלוֹם, דְּהָא כְּתִיב בַּתְרֵיהּ: ״תַּשְׁמִיעֵנִי שָׂשׂוֹן וְשִׂמְחָה וגו׳ וְרוּחַ נְדִיבָה תִסְמְכֵנִי״ וגו׳,
it does not mean that one should be chronically depressed and dejected, God forbid. The proof is that later verses state, "Make me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that You crushed rejoice" (Ps. 51:10), and "Restore the joy of Your salvation to me; sustain me with a generous spirit" (Ps. 51:14), The fact that the continuation of this psalm describes the joy inherent in repenting clearly indicates that even if one must remember his sin constantly, he should not feel depressed or guilty about it.
וּמִשּׁוּם שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לִהְיוֹת כָּל יָמָיו בִּתְשׁוּבָה עִילָּאָה, שֶׁהִיא בְּשִׂמְחָה רַבָּה כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.
because throughout one's lifetime he must maintain the higher level of repentance, which is practiced with great joy, as stated above. Not only is sadness a negative characteristic that impairs a person's spiritual well-being, preventing him from living a full and vibrant life, it impedes his process of repentance and spiritual rectification as well. It prevents a person from true spiritual growth. It is true, as explained in previous chapters, that submission and bitterness are necessary to extricate oneself from sin. But that relates only to the lower level of repentance. Here the author of the Tanya is portraying the state of mind conducive to higher-level repentance. It is the state of closeness to God that one strives to cultivate "throughout one's lifetime," not just in response to a temporary spiritual fall. Moreover, this level of repentance is not limited to sinners. As the author of the Tanya states in many places, even the totally righteous who have never transgressed must maintain this higher level of repentance. To achieve this, to transcend the burden of depression and spiritual drain, to rise above the soul's flaws, to soar beyond one's tainted past into intimate closeness with the Divine, one must be joyous.
אֶלָּא ״נֶגְדִּי״ דַּיְיקָא, כְּמוֹ: ״וְאַתָּה תִּתְיַצֵּב מִנֶּגֶד״ (שמואל ב׳ יח, יג), ״מִנֶּגֶד סָבִיב לְאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד יַחֲנוּ״ (במדבר ב, ב), וּפֵירֵשׁ רַשִׁ״י: מֵרָחוֹק.
Rather, that the sin remain negdi , "before me," is specified in the verse to literally mean opposite me, at a distance, as in "You would have stood at a distance [ mineged ]" (II Sam. 18:13), and "At a distance [ mineged ], around the Tent of Meeting, they shall encamp" (Num. 2:2), and Rashi explains the term to mean at a distance. If joy is so central to living in a state of higher-level repentance, then why must a person mention his sin over and over again? Wouldn't that set the stage for depression? Why can't he just let it go? Here the author of the Tanya unveils a new interpretation of the call to keep the sin "before me." The words "before me," rather than implying that the sin remain close, mean just the opposite. It directs a person to keep the sin at a healthy distance, where it is still within sight but not too near. It is meant to hang in the background like a portrait on the wall, but not be an active part of one's conscious experience. To be sure, a person is not meant to relive again and again the searing pain and guilt of his sins.
וְהַמְכוּוָּן רַק לְבִלְתִּי רוּם לְבָבוֹ
The objective in remembering the sin is only that one prevent his heart from becoming haughty One of the serious obstacles that every person faces on his path of serving God, including the path of repentance, is haughtiness. Whether justified or not, every person must contend with the feeling of pride that inevitably arises within him as he advances ahead of those around him, whether in his Torah study, the quality and quantity of his prayers, acts of kindness, or anything else. Where haughtiness begins, service of God ends.
וְלִהְיוֹת שְׁפַל רוּחַ בִּפְנֵי כָּל הָאָדָם כְּשֶׁיִּהְיֶה לְזִכָּרוֹן בֵּין עֵינָיו שֶׁחָטָא נֶגֶד ה׳.
and be humble in spirit before every person when one has a palpable reminder that he transgressed against God. The penitent must always keep this portrait of his past hanging in one of the chambers of his soul. This constant reminder and awareness of the dark places to which he stooped is not meant to keep him sad, constantly mourning his past mistakes. Rather, it should prevent him from falling into the habit of comparing his virtues to other people's shortcomings and humble him enough so that he will feel equal to his peers. The moment his heart begins to surge with a feeling of superiority, a glance at that portrait will remind him that he too is fallible and prone to sin like any other human being. If he begins to feel superior to others, to view himself as better than anyone else, the verse "My sin is always before me" serves as a warning to signal, "You too have sinned."
וְאַדְּרַבָּה לְעִנְיַן הַשִּׂמְחָה יוֹעִיל זִכְרוֹן הַחֵטְא בְּיֶתֶר שְׂאֵת
On the contrary, remembering the transgression will facilitate a more intense joy Not only should recalling the sin not engender depression, it can actually bring a person to joy. When a person finds himself in less than happy circumstances, or in actual distress, remembering the sin can be a springboard to happiness.
בִּכְדֵי לְקַבֵּל בְּשִׂמְחָה כָּל הַמְּאוֹרָעוֹת הַמִּתְרַגְּשׁוֹת וּבָאוֹת בֵּין מִן הַשָּׁמַיִם בֵּין עַל יְדֵי הַבְּרִיּוֹת בְּדִיבּוּר אוֹ בְּמַעֲשֶׂה
by enabling him to accept with joy all negative events that overtake and come upon him, whether from Heaven or by humans, in speech or deed A person generally gets dispirited from the negative events that befall him, whether they come from Heaven, such as illness and catastrophes, or from the actions and words of other people, be it relatives or strangers, who harass, humiliate, or betray him. The difference between an event that comes from Heaven and one that originates in the human realm is in how the person relates to it. When a person suffers at the hand of Heaven, his only complaint is against God Himself. When he suffers because of a person's actions, he bears accusation against that person as well. One of the causes of depression in the face of adversity is, in fact, arrogance. When a person feels that he is not treated in the way he deserves, it is his sense of entitlement that brews feelings of humiliation and exploitation. His insistence of unfairness becomes a breeding ground for despair and depression, expressed by the classic "Why me?" Trials and tribulation a person could otherwise endure can break him only because they did not also befall his neighbor. A sense of entitlement need not have a justified basis in reality. Even a loathsome wretch can be arrogant enough to be insulted to his core when he is not treated with the respect he thinks he deserves. But when a person remembers his past sins, he holds in his mind's eye his own imperfection, which lends him the fortitude to accept the various forms of hardship that come his way with joy.
(וְזוֹ עֵצָה טוֹבָה לְהִנָּצֵל מִכַּעַס וְכָל מִינֵי קְפִידָא וכו׳).
(and this is good counsel on how to be spared from becoming angry and taking any kind of offense and so on). When a person feels that he deserves better treatment because of his righteous superiority, he becomes insulted and indignant. The best counsel to alleviate these flare-ups is for him to remember the sins of his past and his own deficiencies. That memory doesn't have to occupy the center stage of his consciousness, but it must remain accessible. That way, when necessary, he can reflect on it and regain a balanced perspective that enables him to accept the pain of his situation without feeling that he is in a crisis.
וּכְמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: ״הַנֶּעֱלָבִין וְאֵינָן עוֹלְבִין שׁוֹמְעִין חֶרְפָּתָם וְאֵין מְשִׁיבִין עוֹשִׂים מֵאַהֲבָה וּשְׂמֵחִים בְּיִסּוּרִים״ וכו׳ (גיטין לו, ב),
This is in accordance with our Rabbis' statement that "those who are insulted but do not insult others, who hear themselves being shamed but do not respond, who act out of love for God, and who remain happy in their suffering, about them the verse states (Judg. 5:31),'May all those who love Him be like the sun when it goes forth in its might'" (Gittin 36b), The commentaries identify three distinct levels in this passage:
וְ״כָּל הַמַּעֲבִיר עַל מִדּוֹתָיו מַעֲבִירִים לוֹ עַל כָּל פְּשָׁעָיו״ (ראש השנה יז, א).
and "Whoever forgoes his reckonings with others for injustices done to him, the heavenly court in turn forgoes punishment for all his sins" (Rosh HaShana 17a). This character trait does not describe a person with a naturally mild and submissive disposition, but rather someone who forgoes his claims to that which he rightfully deserves. By internalizing the message of "My sin is always before me," he no longer has the need to demand justice. Instead, he can respond to unfair dealings by saying, "May this be an atonement for my sins." When he does not demand what he feels he deserves according to the letter of the law, heavenly judgment in turn is not exacting with him. This chapter deals primarily with the question of how a person can incorporate the two seemingly contradictory emotions that accompany higher- and lower-level repentance. How can submission and bitterness exist together with the joy of serving God? The author of the